his stomach rebelling at the grisly sight.
“A child,” Dr. Belter said. “It’s the right arm of a child.”
Norton nodded dumbly. “How old?”
Dr. Belter shrugged. “Hard to say, but it looks like a small child. No more than eight or nine.”
“The same age as Jimmy Tyler,” Ray Norton said softly. “And the blood hasn’t coagulated yet.”
“It couldn’t have happened very long ago,” the doctor said. “It must have been this afternoon.”
They rewrapped the arm and returned to the study. Ray Norton looked at the Congers uncomfortably.
“I know this is going to be hard,” he said, as gently as he could, “but I’m going to have to ask you some questions.”
“I know,” Jack said dully. “Can Dr. Belter take Rose upstairs? I think she ought to lie down. I saw everything she saw.”
“Of course,” Norton replied, signaling the doctor to take Rose from the room. He waited till they were gone, then sat down opposite Jack.
“What happened, Jack? Take your time. I know it must have been awful, but I have to know what happened.”
“I don’t know. We got home from White Oaks, and Sarah wasn’t in the house. We searched, and then Elizabeth said she might be in the barn. She was going out to look, and when she got to the porch, she screamed. Rose and I went out to see what was wrong, and … we saw her.” He winced a little, seeing the gruesome scene once more. “She was covered with blood, and she was dragging that—that thing. God, Ray, it was awful.”
“She was coming out of the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Well. I know this isn’t going to be pleasant for you, but I’m going to have to put together a search party. If Sarah found that thing in the woods, we’ve got to find the rest of the—” He broke off, not wanting to say what was in his mind.
“My God,” Jack whispered suddenly, “I forgot.”
Norton jerked his head up.
“It’s Jeff Stevens,” Jack continued softly, staring helplessly at the policeman. “He’s missing too.”
Norton stared back at Jack in disbelief. “Jeff Stevens?” He repeated the name as if he’d never heard it before. “The kid in the old Barnes house?”
Jack nodded dumbly.
“Shit,” Norton muttered under his breath. Then: “Are you sure?”
“It’s all the same,” Jack said hopelessly. “He was in this area, he didn’t show up at home. Just like the others.”
Norton stood up. “I’ll call his parents. I wonder if his father will want to be part of the search party.”
“I suppose,” Jack said. “We have to find out what’s happening, don’t we?” He paused a moment, then went on. “I’ll come along too, Ray. The least I can do is help look.”
Norton shook his head. “Not you,” he said. “You’ve been through enough.”
He went to the telephone and began making a series of calls. By the time he was finished, Carl and Barbara Stevens were on their way over and a search party had been organized. He looked out the window toward the woods. It had begun snowing, and it seemed to be falling harder each minute.
As he watched, the woods slowly disappeared into the snowstorm.
They searched the woods, first in the fading light of dusk, then using lights, but they found nothing. If there was a trail, the snow covered it, and as the night wore on the storm grew. After four hours they gave it up. The search party returned to the house on Conger’s Point, but soon they began drifting back to town. There was nothing to be accomplished on the Point. In town, where there were no Congers to overhear, the people of Port Arbello could talk.
In the house on Conger’s Point, only Ray Norton and Dr. Belter remained. They sat in the study with Jack Conger, and the three of them talked. There was no talk of whether something should be done with Sarah; only of what should be done. Jack Conger was tired. He was tired and he felt terribly alone. He sat with the doctor and the police chief only because it was his daughter they were discussing, his family. But he was beyond caring what they decided to do. He would do whatever had to be done. He poured himself another drink and seated himself by the fire. He envied Rose, who lay sedated and asleep upstairs.
Dr. Belter was just finishing a long explanation of the details of Sarah’s illness. When he was done, Ray Norton lit his pipe, something he rarely did, and leaned back.
“Well, I just don’t know what